


Wake me up

by Codango



Series: Epic tales of Sindrian romance [1]
Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Consent, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Late Night Conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3235580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codango/pseuds/Codango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Masrur was kneeling next to her sleeping pallet. One of his enormous hands was at her forehead, and she was holding the other in a grip that would have broken a lesser man’s bones. </p><p>“Morgiana,” the man whispered again, “it’s just a dream. Whatever it was, it’s just a dream.”</p><p>Her heart was still pounding, and the tears wouldn’t stop coming. How embarrassing, how shameful. She was one of Alibaba’s household, a Fanalis, and she was sobbing in her sleep in King Sinbad’s camp at the summit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake me up

 

The faces were blank.

No emotion. No features. No hope.

Hope. That was the most troubling thing.

Morgiana took off down the streets of Balbadd at a run. The people shuffled along, their ankle chains clinking, their loads heavy. This wasn’t Alibaba’s home. This wasn’t the new republic he dreamed of building.

She heard a young girl scream, and she dashed down an alley toward the sound.

This city was the stuff of nightmares.

Her legs, strong and tireless, moved like she was chest-deep in sludge. The screams were louder, more terrified, more mindless with fear with each passing moment.

Finally, she ran up against a barred door. She could see a tiny girl, her bright red hair dull with all manner of filth, cowering on a dirt floor. She tried to cover her face, but a young man stood over her, yanking the chains on her arms.

The screams tore at Morgiana’s mind.

“Let her go!” she shrieked. “Please! Please, let her go! I’ll do anything, let her go!”

The bars might have muffled her voice for all the good her shouts did.

Morgiana kicked and bit and swore and punched.

“Let her go!” she sobbed. “Let us go! Let us all go!”

Hands closed over her own wrists from behind her. They were huge and strong, so strong. She wrestled, but they were like stone. “Let me go!” she screamed. The bars in front of her vanished, and she was the one in the cage on the floor, with shackles around her wrists. “Let me go. P-please. Please, just let me go.”

“Morgiana.”

“I’ll do anything… I’ll swear anything…”

_“Morgiana.”_

“Pl-please. Please.”

“Shh. Sh. Morgiana, please.”

She stopped screaming. In all her years in chains, she’d never heard anything like that voice.

“Morgiana, please. Please wake up.” A hand swept over her forehead, and she felt her own sweat. “You’ll make yourself sick, please.”

Her eyes, puffy from tears, slid slowly open.

Masrur was kneeling next to her sleeping pallet. One of his enormous hands was at her forehead, and she was holding the other in a grip that would have broken a lesser man’s bones.

“Morgiana,” the man whispered again, “it’s just a dream. Whatever it was, it’s just a dream.”

Her heart was still pounding, and the tears wouldn’t stop coming. How embarrassing, how shameful. She was one of Alibaba’s household, a Fanalis, and she was sobbing in her sleep in King Sinbad’s camp at the summit.

“Can you speak? Are you all right?”

She didn’t trust her voice yet. She doubted she could do more than squeak at the moment. She settled for a quick nod, even as her tears formed trails down to her ears.

Masrur tugged at his hand gently, but Morgiana couldn’t uncurl her fist. She needed his strength, needed it to infuse her. His eyes, golden but shaped so much like hers, were calm as always.

She saw him look up and around. She followed his gaze.

Alibaba, Aladdin, even Sinbad himself, were sprawled in drunken stupor close to the fire. Morgiana had chosen, with Sharrkan, Yamuraiha, and the other eight generals, to sleep in an outer ring surrounding them. But judging by the lack of movement from those pallets as well, they had been equally indulgent.

Cold air blew against her thigh, and Morgiana turned to see Masrur climbing under her covers. She gasped as he swung her easily onto his massive chest, settling the blankets over them once again.

“Now.” His voice was low, and Morgiana felt it rumble through her bones. “The dreams will have to come through me first.”

She stared down into his face in disbelief. He met her gaze steadily, as though there were nothing strange at all about having his protege curl up like a cat on his chest. Morgiana took in his short cropped hair, his feline eyes… the corded neck and powerful shoulders… and she wondered if her entire body were radiating heat.

A muscled arm, heavy and solid, pressed down on her shoulders, and Morgiana sank into his chest instantly. “Will you tell me your dream?” he asked quietly. “So I may send it on its way again if it tries to come back?”

She gripped his thin toga and closed her eyes against the visions. “How… how were you the only one to hear me?” she asked instead. “Was I very loud?”

“The others are drunk. Dreaming their own dreams.”

Morgiana rested her chin on her hands and looked at the gentle giant beneath her. “And you, Masrur? Did you not drink?”

“I did. It takes a lot, and I get bored.”

She giggled, and he raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of anyone getting bored of drinking. Everyone seems to think it’s a lot of fun.”

“Do you not drink, Miss Morgiana?”

She cocked her head. “I’ve… I’ve never been offered a drink.”

Masrur slipped his free arm behind his head to see her better. “No one has ever offered _you_ a drink? Not even wine?”

“Well. Well,” Morgiana stammered. “I… I was… a s-slave for so long. And now with Alibaba, we don’t have much money, so.”

“He manages to drink. Quite a lot. As you can see.” Masrur tilted his chin back to look up at the stars. “I will get you a drink before we leave this island. An excellent one. You will like it.”

She let her eyes trail over his jaw and that… splendid neck. The arm tucked behind his head looked sculpted from marble, and Morgiana shivered to think that its twin was wrapped around her own shoulders.

“You are cold?”

Morgiana gulped. “Not… not rea—”

“You should be comfortable if you’re not to sleep badly again. Here.” And he slid her off his chest easily, tucking her head under his chin as he shifted to his side. Both arms enveloped her warmly into the cocoon of his body.

Morgiana’s eyelids fluttered shut. Her nose was centimeters away from the delicate _V_ of his collarbone, and his scent was warm and comforting and exciting all at once. She sighed and felt her breath stir the loose neckline of his toga.

It would be too easy… really quite easy… to just rest her lips against his collarbone. They were so close, and Masrur didn’t seem to think anything of it. Morgiana blushed. _If I’m ever to sleep peacefully again, it’s probably not going to be like this!_ And if she couldn’t sleep, then the dreams surely wouldn’t come back.

She felt a large hand on top of her head, then slow strokes through her hair. Again and again, so slowly, so gently, Masrur fanned her red hair over her shoulders.

Tears welled up in Morgiana’s eyes, and she let them drip over her cheeks, afraid to move, afraid to break the spell. This gentle care, these caresses — were the softest touches her body had ever received from someone else. Aladdin’s hugs were exuberant, and Alibaba’s embraces were boyish. This was…

She placed both hands flat on Masrur’s chest. Lifted her chin. And pressed her lips to his collarbone.

The hand stilled on her hair.

She inhaled that marvelous smell, planted another small kiss in the groove of his neck.

Masrur gripped her hair and pulled her head back. The tightness of his fingers wound in her hair brought a sting that drew heat into her chest. She wondered what he saw as he stared into her eyes. Perhaps a flushed face, perhaps an open mouth, perhaps heavy, darkened eyes.

“Miss Morgiana.” She felt more than heard his voice, it was so low. She reached a hand to his throat. “Morgiana.” His voice nearly disappeared entirely. “Do you… please tell me you know what you’re doing right… right now.”

Morgiana had never tried to seduce a man. She had seen their looks and knew what would happen should she respond favorably. She’d never felt the need, but it was, she always thought, one of the universe’s more simple arrangements.

“Did you, Masrur,” she purred his name, and his eyes went black, “know what you were doing when you climbed into my bed?”

“I heard you crying, I swear it,” the large man whispered. “It was never… I had no intention… I can leave at once, I…”

Morgiana ran her nails down his throat, and his eyes showed white for a moment. “But you promised that you’d stop the dreams.”

“I… I don’t know if…” His words came in slow, rough pants. “There are others…”

“Masrur.” She swept her hands up his neck and began kneading his shoulders. “You know you can leave if you like. No one in the world could stop you.”

He sighed heavily, his hand slipping from her hair to trace her spine. “Morgiana,” he whispered. “I never knew you could lie.”

Masrur lowered his head and urged her chin up with two fingers. Her lips fell apart for his tongue, warm and sweet. His hand slid down her throat, brushed her hair back over her shoulder, as he teased her mouth with a gentle slowness.

She sighed lightly into his mouth, no louder than a butterfly, and his hand found her ass. His lips slid away from hers to her ear. “I couldn’t leave this bed. I never knew... could never have imagined... I'd be asked into it.”

Morgiana explored the ridges of his abdomen with her fingers, loving the tiny gasps he lost wherever she touched. “As I recall…” She found a nipple through his toga, and his whole body jerked. “You invited yourself in, _master_.”

He swept her simple white shift off one shoulder and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Not your master right now.” His hand traced her ribs, and she bit his shoulder to keep from gasping. “I want you to teach _me_.”

She dug her nails into his biceps, and he sighed into her neck. “Lesson one, I think, is that if you’ve been trying to get my attention, you’ve been way too subtle,” she teased.

“Oh. You would have liked me to be more direct?”

Morgiana opened her mouth, but she was flipped backward against his chest before any words came out.

“I shall endeavor to be more so.” And he pressed against her back in a tight embrace.

Morgiana’s eyes went wide. _That’s… that’s going to be a problem._ The size of the Fanalis general was apparently to scale, well, everywhere. She pursed her lips. When was the correct time to say that maybe this wouldn’t—

but then his lips were against her ear and nibbling down her neck.

and one hand swept over her breasts.

teased the nipples into hard peaks, making her bite her lip and reach behind to rake her nails along his neck, and she hadn’t even noticed

that his right hand was sweeping the length of her abs underneath her shift.

and he spread her effortlessly with his large hand.

“Mas… Masr…”

“Shh.” That lovely whisper, that gentle sound. “Quiet. Quiet, beautiful.”

She was aching but knew _knew_ she couldn’t take him. She was dripping, needed him, but…

His fingers were warm against her, and she bit down on the hand that suddenly, perfectly, covered her mouth.

His fingertips were perfect, and Morgiana reached her leg back to wrap around a strong calf, needing to be as wide as she could. He stroked and slid inside her so easily, and she followed his hand with her hips.

He was hard against her back now, and she could feel him lose the battle to not press against her. Two fingers were inside her, and Morgiana nearly screamed as they slid out and up and back inside.

“Ah, you’re so small.” His whisper was nearly lost in the roar of her blood in her ears. “I knew it, I was ready for it, but ah.” Masrur tilted her face back, his hand still at her mouth, and dragged his teeth over her neck. “You are so, _so_ wet. I was not expecting you to be loving this so much.” He concentrated his touch at her clitoris now, and heat like she’d never felt spread from her hips.

She was lost to his touch, her nerves greedy for his fingers. He was rubbing hard now, and Morgiana could feel herself spilling into his hand, felt wanton, felt whorish, felt free—

and his last hard scrape over her sex turned her world white.

He held two fingers inside her, gasping against her neck as she tightened and relaxed and tightened around them again.

Morgiana blinked slowly back into the world as she felt him, throbbing, against her. “Masrur,” she whispered, reaching back for him. “I’m so… I can’t…”

He dropped his head onto her shoulder as she found his cock. It filled her hand, hot and hard. “I know. I know, and I won’t ask to be inside you.” He bit her shoulder, and she opened her mouth in silent pleasure at the roughness. “Not this time.”

Her eyes flew open, and he flipped her around easily.

“For now —” Masrur’s golden eyes were black, and Morgiana noticed his skin was flushed to his navel. The dusky shade, she decided, suited his shoulders perfectly. “Let me teach you one other thing.”

His hand covered hers completely, and she rested against his chest as he gripped his cock with her hand. It was a slow, loose stroke, and Morgiana closed her eyes to the heavy thud of his heart. Masrur guided her fingertips, whispered that he needed her touch just there for now, please, showed her how to stroke the head with a feather-light touch.

He rocked his hips in time to her hand, finally gripped her shoulders as she palmed him with a more sure hand. His panting was ragged, and she wondered if she’d sounded so indiscreet. Morgiana pulled his head down with her free hand and covered his mouth with her own.

Masrur controlled the kiss instantly. Whereas their first kisses had been gentle and careful, he cupped her jaw with a hand and molded her mouth to his. He searched for her tongue and stroked it with his own, his teeth bruising her lips.

His hips jerked violently, and he broke off the kiss.

She stroked down hard, and Masrur bit her shoulder with a silent scream, coming into her hand.

Unsure, Morgiana reached for another stroke, but Masrur grabbed her wrist. He rolled onto his back, tugging her once again onto his chest, away from the mess. Morgiana wasn’t certain why, but she was quietly pleased at the sight of his closed eyes and panting mouth.

“Is that how you usually chase away bad dreams?” she whispered, planting a kiss on his flushed chest.

Masrur didn’t open his eyes but once again combed through her hair with gentle fingers. “Usually I just read a book.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> [@codango](http://codango.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr
> 
> [Marcella Christie](http://marcellachristie.com/) for my alter ego


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